~Antonio
The sun was barely up, but the house was already bustling. I dragged myself to the dining table, yawning as I adjusted my tie. Everyone was already seated—Mom, Dad, Giovanni, Tiara, and Marco, our cousin who had been visiting for a week. The table was a feast of Spanish delights: pan con tomate, tortilla española, slices of jamón ibérico, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
I muttered under my breath, "Finally, I can focus on my work. No more Giovanni’s drama for now."
For weeks, I’d been cleaning up his messes, sacrificing my time and my company’s progress to ensure the family name stayed intact. But today, I could finally prioritize my own responsibilities.
The table was unusually quiet. Forks clinked against plates, and glasses were lifted in soft, mechanical movements
